Brain Teaser
by Moriarty's Diary
Summary: Sherlock Holmes was well known for his high intellect and witty comments towards everything and everyone. Sherlock tended to avoid people, mostly because he couldn't stand their stupidity, up until a new student, John Watson, waltzed into the classroom. Teen!lock. Non-canon.
1. Dreaming

Chapter 1

Sherlock's POV

I walked through these dreadful school hallways, ignoring the glances and whispers. Everybody was talking about _me_. Whatever for? I had just proven that one of our science teachers was a serial killer and to top it, that he sexually assaulted three female students, whom of which, did not say a word because he was threatening them with photographs.

I have been congratulated by the officers at Scotland Yard, who, to say the least, were a little bit embarrassed that a sixteen year old high school student could figure out all this without a lead. It wasn't hard, people just make it hard. God, people are such idiots. Everything is so _simple _yet they just have to go about and make it difficult for them.

Idiots.

The bell rang, dismissing the students and suddenly the hallways were quiet and empty except for a couple of students who slammed their locker doors in a hurry. I walked into my Chemistry classroom, and all eyes were on me. I gritted my teeth together and took my seat.

I hate attention.

I stared at my thirty-three year old Chemistry teacher, whose hands were slightly shaky and whose pants, shirt and hair made him look like he was in a hurry to get to school. Or he could have been shagging Miss Child, the redheaded Math teacher up on the second floor. By the red hair that clung to the back of his dress shirt, and the poorly washed lipstick on his neck, I'd say he was. How unfaithful of him, his poor girlfriend is so oblivious. I would guess that his little affair has been going on for six months at least.

He made eye contact with me, and immediately looked away.

I smirked.

"Um, attention class!" Mr Hamilton announced, looking towards the classroom door. "We have a new student among us. Come in, John." Mr Hamilton waved over a very shy looking male.

He had blonde hair, bright eyes and around five foot five in height. His backpack slung over his right shoulder, his right hand clinging to the strap. For some reason, I found him mysterious.

"This is John Watson. He just switched schools so please be kind to him. Take a seat back there." Mr Hamilton waved John over to the seat at my left, which had always been empty.

John Watson sat at his assigned seat, and avoided eye contact with everybody in the room.

The rest of the day went smoothly, and the principle congratulated me privately in his office and about what a _bright _kid I am. I stiffly smiled, shook his hand and left the office.

I went home, ignored Mycroft and everybody else and stayed in my bedroom. It was a decent day.

Up until that night, when I went to sleep.

I dreamed, something that I never did before. If I had, I probably deleted it from memory. No need for pointless memories or information.

I dreamed that I was walking down a sidewalk, hand in hand with someone, running away from something but I didn't know what. It was dark out and very cold, so cold that the ground began to frost.

"Come on!" The person that held my hand shouted. "We have to keep running!"

I looked at my right, to which the person was standing, and my breath caught in my throat.

It was John Watson.


	2. Saved

Chapter 2

Sherlock's POV

I woke up the next morning, feeling sweaty. My heart rate had sky rocketed and I felt like I had been running for a very long time. I swallowed, getting up and prepared for the rest of the day - and trying _very _hard to delete the dream I had so recently dreamed.

* * *

I walked into Chemistry class, the last class of the day and took a seat in my usual spot. No more than two minutes later, John Watson entered the classroom and took his seat. I immediately tensed up and avoided eye contact with him. I was pretty sure he noticed my efforts, because out of the corner of my eye, I could see him frowning at me.

The lesson went on, nothing important that I already knew. Mr Hamilton was exceptionally nervous today, darting glances in my direction when he thought I wasn't looking. He was stressed out about something, and it was obvious that he hadn't slept for a single hour last night, judging by the heavy eye bags under his eyes and how filthy he looked. He didn't even have the decency to change clothes. He must know that I suspected him of his little _affair_.

As soon as the bell rang, I was out of the classroom quickly.

I turned the corner, everything a blur.

Then, I slammed into something, or rather _someone_. I looked up, frowning and realized I walked into Mr Hamilton. He was sweaty, shaky and fumbling over the files I had accidentally knocked out of his arms. I didn't bother to help, as there was only two sheets laying on the ground. He looked up at me, his eyes widening as he has came to realize that it was me who so _rudely _interrupted his obvious train of thought.

"Good afternoon, Mr Hamilton." I greeted him courteously.

"Oh, S-Sherlock. Afternoon." He said, his tongue in knots.

After twelve seconds of him trying to get his papers back in order and feverishly wiping the sweat from his forehead, I began to pry myself into his situation.

"Trouble?" I queried, my hands clasped behind my back.

"Uh no...no why?" Mr Hamilton asked, his eyes still slightly round but he attempted to hide his obvious nervousness with a small smile.

I shrugged, cocking my head to the left. "No reason, you seem nervous, is all."

"No, not at all." He excused himself.

"All right." I said, walking passed him. I knew that in a matter of seconds, he would call me back, wondering what I knew. Stupid people.

"Wait." He sighed, turning around. I smirked to myself then spun around, facing the poor excuse of a chemistry teacher. "What do you know?"

I shrugged again. "About what?"

He dropped his suitcase to the ground, grabbing me by my coat collar and pushing me up against the wall. The impact wasn't too bad, but to say the least I was taken aback.

"Don't play stupid, Sherlock. I know that you know something. I don't know _how _you know but whatever you do know, I want you to forget about it. It is none of your business and no one gave you the right to sneak around and eavesdrop or whatever it is that you do!" Mr Hamilton sneered.

"Actually," Sherlock said, removing himself from his abusive teacher's grip. "I don't eavesdrop. All of you are just simply careless."

"You-"

Suddenly, the teacher's face went into complete shock and he tumbled onto the ground, face first, landing on the pavement with a loud thud. Standing behind him, which was obviously the source of Mr Hamilton's unconsciousness, was John Watson, with his knuckles clenching at his sides. I became rigid, small flashes of my supposedly deleted dream flashing before my eyes.

"Are you alright?" John asked, examining my face.

My mouth was gaping and to be completely honest I was rather shocked. "Yes..."

"I saw what he did to you. He was ready to take a swing." John said, his eyes darting back to the unconscious teacher laying on the ground.

I found myself in an awkward position, I tried so hard trying to avoid everybody at this school and for the first time, it was someone else who_ approached me_.

"Let's go," I suggested. "before he wakes up and realizes it was you."

We then left the scene and walked in the direction of our homes, scouring the land with our eyes in hopes that there were no witnesses, John Watson walking at my side the entire time.


	3. Fight

**Caution: Coarse language.**

* * *

Chapter 3

Sherlock's POV

The following day, I was seated at the back of the room during Biology class.

"Hey, Holmes," One of the male students whispered. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and mentally sighed. "in love with the new kid, eh?"

I frowned. "No. What would give you that idea?" I retorted, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

He looked at the teacher to make sure she wasn't looking or listening, but she never really pays attention so his actions were unnecessary.

"I saw what he did to Mr Hamilton. I saw him walk home with you." He explained, a hint of humor in his eyes. His friend then joined in, fake coughing and spitting out unintelligible words, insults most likely.

"We just so happened to be walking in the same direction. I don't understand why this concerns you, snitch." I sneered.

His nostrils flared and he visibly gritted his teeth. "It's Anderson." He spat.

"He's got a backbone!" His friend, Sally, muttered, mock surprised.

"Personally, I...don't...care." I said, turning my attention to the written formula on the board.

It was then when _Anderson _became irritated and snagged my paper, ripping it into pieces.

"Do you care now?" He challenged, wiping the shredded paper from his desk to the ground.

"Eidetic memory." I murmured to myself.

"What?" He queried, and this time I didn't fight back the urge to roll my eyes.

"What are we, seven?" I asked sarcastically. "_Eidetic memory_, you under-educated twat! It means that I can memorize things without effort. I don't need to take notes! And as for you causing all this trouble, I strongly suggest you resist the temptation to cause any problems with me. You will only get hurt and god_ forbid_ that."

"You sassy little fuck," He growled, and coiled back his arm to take a swing at me.

He aimed for my face, Sally gasped and stood up, causing everybody in the classroom to turn in our direction. I stopped his punch in time. I grabbed his wrist and spun him around, pinning it to his back. I did the same to his other hand and with my right knee, I bumped it at the back of his leg and he fell forward. I pressed my knee into his back, locking him in place.

"Sherlock!" The teacher shouted.

"Sorry, this student was verbally harassing me and attempted to physically harm me." I explained, releasing Anderson once the teacher came near.

"Is this true, Anderson?" The teacher queried, towering over Anderson, who was still on the ground.

"I, uh..." Theo stammered, and I sniggered. Idiot.

The teacher shook her head. "To the bureau, Anderson. Let him deal with you! Sherlock? Escort him! If he does any funny business, tell the principle."

In all honesty, it wasn't very wise for the teacher to send me and Anderson to the office together. Anderson wouldn't retaliate on our way there, but he would definitely hold a grudge over me. Not that I could care, but he will be insulting me more frequently, and I'd rather him not associate with me at all.

As told, I escorted Anderson to the bureau. I forcefully pushed him into the office, and the principle was sitting in his leather chair. He was on a private phone call, which I presume isn't allowed during working hours.

"Sherlock, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?" He queried, a wide grin on his aging face.

I nodded towards Anderson, who was intently frowning.

"Attempted to physically hurt me as well as verbally harassing. It was quite irritating." I said.

"I did no such-"

"Quiet, Anderson!" The principle nearly shouted. "Detention for the rest of the month, I have had it up to here with all your shenanigans. You are always picking on Sherlock. One more faulty and I may have to suspend you!"

Anderson opened up his mouth to defend himself, but immediately shut it. He should know better than to even try and excuse his actions.

Anderson took a seat in a chair, at the corner of the room. The principle turned to me, offering his dirty hand to shake. Hesitantly, I shook it and slightly grimaced in the act.

"Sorry for the trouble, Sherlock." The principle apologized on behalf of Anderson. He then took me aside and whispered quietly. "Oh, and thank you for the letter."

I frowned. "What letter?"

"The one you sent to me this morning, explaining the situation between Mr Hamilton and Ms Child. I had him fired immediately. Of course, I wouldn't have inexplicably fired him for no reason if it weren't for your facts and photographic proof." The principle went on.

I frowned, more prominently. As far as I'm aware, I did not send the principle a letter and I did not take 'photographic proof' of Mr Hamilton and Ms Child's _acts_.

Absentmindedly, I replied, "Sure."

The principle smiled kindly, and I left the bureau, my mind confused and bewildered.

If I didn't send the principle the letter, then who did? And why did they sign it with my name?


	4. Blocked Number

Chapter 4

Sherlock's POV

"Why'd you have to do that?!" Sally scolded me from across the field.

The day had ended, and I was outside, trying to open up the doors of my mind palace. I was laid down on the grass, my eyes closed as I tried to piece together evidence and possible suspects to who had impersonated me.

My eyes flew open, and I was met with dark brown eyes that belonged to Sally Donovan. She didn't seem at all pleased with me. Her puffy, curly brown hair stuck out at awkward angles but it somewhat suit her. She was frowning at me, both of her hands placed at her hips and her backpack looking awfully heavy.

"Do what?" I asked, but of course, I already knew what I had done.

She sighed impatiently. "You attacked Anderson and got him in trouble!"

I stood up, towering over the short girl. I didn't want to put up with this. This didn't need to be a problem.

"It's called self-defense and it was his fault we got caught." I disagreed, scrutinizing Sally.

She huffed. "No one told you to pin him to the ground and tell on him!"

I rolled my eyes. Really, how oblivious could she be?

"I wouldn't have to pin him to the ground if he didn't choose to attempt in harming me. I wouldn't have to tell on him if both you and Anderson just mind your own business!" I sneered, gritting my teeth.

She stood there, staring at me in disbelief. She shook her head, smirking at me.

"You're psychotic, you know that? Maybe if you mind _your _own business, people would actually want to be friends with you. But you always have to go about and poke your nose through other people's personal lives, don't you? The police could have figured out that the science teacher was a sexual offender on their own, without the help of a freaky, crime obsessed amateur!" Sally burst, practically yelling in my face.

"Exactly when will you understand that I don't_ want_ to be friends with any of you? And what does that have to do anything? No one would have known that the teacher was a sexual offender and a murderer if it weren't for me. And if I didn't do anything, he would have sexually assaulted and probably killed more people! So, _you _should be thankful that I managed to figure all of this out otherwise it could have been _you _that became the victim!" I replied, narrowing my eyes at a wide-eyed Sally.

She was speechless, stepping backwards and beginning to walk away.

"You're a freak, Sherlock Holmes!" She spat. "You always will be."

* * *

I was laid down on my bed, rummaging through recent memories, trying to figure who could possibly have forged my signature. It was nearly impossibly to forge my signature, unless you had a copy of it on hand. My writing is like calligraphy; precise, toned and smooth.

I sighed, coming up to another dead end.

In the other room, I could hear Mycroft playing his grand piano.

And I can hear the sound of something beeping repeatedly. It didn't go away. The same sound, playing itself over and over again. I sat up, frowning, until I realized it was just my cell phone.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hi, Sherlock." The manipulated voice greeted.

I frowned. "Who is this?"

"I got rid of them for you." The stranger continued on.

"Got rid of who?" I demanded.

"They were causing you trouble, weren't they?" He queried.

"Who is this?" I repeated, frustrated that I had limited access to deduce who this person could be.

"Your troubles are gone now, Sherlock." The stranger mused.

"Answer my question!" I growled.

"I can make all your troubles go away." Then the line went dead.


	5. After You

**Hello, everybody! If you could review or leave a comment for this chapter, it would be greatly appreciated. I don't want to feel like I'm boring you! In addition, thank you for reading. **

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Chapter 5

Sherlock's POV

The next day, I was unfortunately forced to go back to school. But instead of attending classes, I stayed outside on the field, laying down and looking up at the endless universe known as the sky.

I thought about the odd phone call I had received last night, wondering what the person meant by troubles. I didn't have any troubles other than the obnoxious, ignorant, idiotic people in this school. I knew for a fact that the principle was looking for me today, though I don't know what for, I escaped the hallways once I had heard I was wanted. I didn't want to deal with anybody right now.

Interrupting my thoughts, was the sound of someone coughing erratically. The coughing was getting louder and louder with every passing second. Out of irritation, I sat upright and I was prepared to scold whoever was rude enough to interrupt my thoughts, when I realized it was John Watson, walking in my direction, coughing.

"John?" I called out to him, but he seemed distant and out of it. "John!"

This time, he looked up, squinting at me as if I were too far away for him to see. I was only ten meters away.

"Sherlock?" He muttered back, his eyes widening as I came to vision.

I looked at the back of his hand, noticing spotty blood stains on it.

"Are you alright?" I queried.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes with his other hand. "I'm fine."

I half-smiled. "You don't look fine."

"It's, uh, nothing." He said.

I frowned, but I let it slide. I lid back down, and John joined me on the grass. Which I didn't mind.

"Why are you skipping class?" He inquired after a few moments.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't feel like going."

He nodded and then it was silent.

"Why are you?" I asked.

"I was going to go home." He replied, staring up at the sky.

"Why don't you go home, then?" I questioned. What a case this John Watson is.

"That would be boring." He stated, a dreadful look in his eyes.

I smirked. "And staying with me isn't?"

He shook his head. "No." He smiled for a moment. "I find you rather intriguing."

"I see." I commented.

We lay on the grass for a few minutes, letting the subtle breezes of the wind embrace us and the sun shined brightly down on us. It was a three degrees above normal today.

"You're not like others." John said suddenly.

"I know." I murmured, feeling a little bit of an outcast which was weird because I don't w_ant _to be like the others.

"You're cleverer, more insightful." He continued, and that completely changed my feeling like an outcast. I felt...welcomed, accepted by John.

I smiled, but I didn't allow him to see that. No one had ever said that to me before. No one had bothered to befriend me and I used to be happy about that because all of those students were imbeciles. But I didn't mind John Watson, he seemed different too.

"Thanks." I muttered.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a silhouette of a man hiding behind a tree, peering around it to watch both John Watson and I.

I stood up, making the person aware that I knew he was there, and he started to run in the opposite direction.

"Come on!" I shouted, and John was startled but reluctantly ran behind me. "There was a man staring at us the entire time." I panted, explaining the situation to John between breaths.

"What?" John panted, trying to make sense of this.

"I'll explain this to you later, just run!" I shouted, a few paces ahead of John.

We ran into the forest, weaving through the bush and dodging tree branches and roots that were jutting out of the ground.

I kept running, until my cell phone rang and I stopped to pick it up.

"I can make them all go away..." The voice whispered, then hung up.

It was then that I realized that John Watson was no longer following me.

He had disappeared.


	6. Returned

**Hello, sorry for the hiatus. I've been busy being an active beta, but I'm back! I recently turned 16 years old (: Yay! Anyway, Sherlock tends to be a bit more caring in this chapter. **

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Chapter 6

Sherlock's POV

"John?" I called out, scanning the bushes, trees and the little path that I had come from. John should have been running behind me the entire time, where could he have gone? "John!"

Still, there was no answer. Surely John wouldn't have just up and disappeared without telling me, that would have been uncharacteristic of him. I traced my steps back, a good twenty meters back from where I came and noticed his footsteps trailing back to the west, as if he had decided to change directions.

Frowning, I turned back to my original checkpoint, exiting the forest. Then, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I responded.

"Hello, Sherlock." The familiar, manipulated voice echoed.

"What do you want?" I demanded, looking everywhere, in hopes of finding John somewhere.

"I only want to rid of your problems." He said, in a mocked innocent tone.

"I don't have any problems!" I disagreed, blatantly frustrated at this point.

"Oh, but we both know that's not quite true."

Then he hung up.

"Damn it!" I cursed, shoving my cell phone back into my jacket.

Problems. This person kept talking about my problems. What problems? The only problem that I could come up with would be my issues with other people. People such as Anderson and Sally. Perhaps there are others, but I have probably deleted them from my memory long ago. I don't understand why I bother to remember Anderson and Sally.

Angrily and worriedly, I scoured the perimeter of the small forest. Where could John have gone? He couldn't have disappeared instantaneously.

"Sherlock!" A distant voice shouted. It was barely audible, but I managed to hear it.

It came from the North end of the forest, and immediately, I made my way around in time to see John stumbling out of the forest.

"Where have you gone?" I nearly scolded him.

John looked bewildered as he frowned, his eyes darting everywhere.

"Where have I gone? Where have _you _gone?" He retorted, obviously very mad.

"You were supposed to be following me." I muttered. He coughed a couple of times and cleared his throat.

"No, I looked back for a slight second to see if anybody was following us, then I saw you go through one of the bushes." John explained.

I shook my head. "I didn't go through any bush."

"Then who did I just-"

"Where did he go?" I growled, looking both left and right.

"I don't know, I lost you...I mean him, I mean-"

"East, West, North, South? Which direction, John?"

"West!"

"That's where I just came from." I murmured. I ran back, making sure that John was following me this time.

"Sherlock, who are we looking for?" John queried, out of breath.

"A man, no older than us. He wants...I don't know what he wants but he has my number. He called me no more than five minutes ago." I informed him.

"What did he say?" John asked, his lips pressed tightly into a thin line.

I hesitated for a moment, replaying the small conversation in my head.

"He said he wanted to rid of my problems."

"Problems? What problems?"

"I don't know." I sneered. I always knew, but somehow, this time, I had no idea what this stranger wanted from me, or wanted in general. "Next time we must be more careful."

"Right." John coughed.

Silence surrounded us for a minute.

"I should take you home." I suggested, feeling sort of awkward and out-of-place as I had never suggested such a caring action.

John nodded. "Okay."


	7. Walking Home

**Hey guys, hope you are all having a fantastic back-to-school (that is, if you are still in school). Haha, I hope you like this chapter!**

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Chapter 7

John's POV

Silently, Sherlock was escorted me back home. I didn't bother to ask how he knew where I lived. I just let him walk ahead of me, quietly mumbling to himself.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, staring at the back of his head.

He spun around, stopping me in my tracks and he frowned at me.

"What do you mean?" He queried, his frown deepening.

"Oh, um, about this stalker of yours. What are you going to do?" I clarified, looking away from his intense gaze.

"I'm going to figure out who it is." Sherlock said, turning around and proceeding to lead me home.

I looked down at the ground, my peripherals following Sherlock's footsteps.

For a very long moment, I did nothing but breathe and follow him. He was dead silent now, nothing could be heard besides the light patter of his footsteps and my own splashing through the shallow rain puddles.

Sherlock was quite different from the others, which seems sort of cliché but true, nonetheless. It was evident that Sally Donovan and Anderson despise him; always picking on him in Chemistry class and trying very hard to get him in trouble. I'm pretty sure if Sherlock wasn't such a good student and if the staff didn't trust him so much, he would be held equally responsible for the fight that Anderson started.

On some levels, I feel sorry for Sherlock because he's always being picked on by those two imbeciles and it really isn't his fault that he's brilliant.

I heard that he found out that a teacher was convicted of sexually assaulting quite a few female students. How he found evidence for that, no one really knows except for Sherlock and the authorities.

They pick on him because he's smart and unique. A few times, actually, and I have caught myself thinking this, I really did want to punch the living daylights out of Anderson because of his cruelty. But I knew better than to do that, and I'm sure Sherlock will wonder why I would do such a thing.

Before I knew it, we arrived at my home and Sherlock - with his hands behind his back - waited for me to unlock my door like he did the last time he walked me home.

"Thanks." I said, coughing.

Sherlock half-smiled. "No problem."

I nodded and went inside, closing the door behind me.

I stared out the window, which overlooked the street and watched Sherlock leave, only to enter a flat across the street.

Before closing the door, he smiled in my direction. And in a panic, I shut the curtain, feeling my cheeks flame.


	8. Friends Protect People

Chapter 8

Sherlock's POV

Anderson and Sally hadn't shown up for school in a while, which had the teachers suspicious because as annoying, irritating and ignorant as they were, they were always punctual.

John had been somewhat avoiding me lately. This is the third consecutive week in a row where he hadn't made so much as a two second glance in my direction. Every time I would approach him, he'd fumble away from me and run. It had me rather confused, as I didn't do anything that I thought was wrong. The last time we had any sort of contact was when I accompanied him to his house, after chasing the mystery person in the forest.

"Sherlock Holmes to the bureau please, Sherlock Holmes to the bureau." The secretary's lazy voice announced over the P.A. system.

Making eye contact with my teacher, she nodded and I proceeded to leave the classroom. I walked towards the office and let myself in, wandering to the secretary's desk. The lady looked up from her computer screen a smiled.

"May I help you, dear?" She asked.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes." I said.

Her face lit up with familiarity. "Ah, yes! The principle would like to see you in his office."

I nodded once and proceeded down the very short hallway, entering the first door on the right. I swung the door open in time to see a very puzzled, worried principle.

"Sherlock!" He breathed.

"Yes?" I queried, wondering why he pulled me out of class.

"Have you seen Anderson and Sally lately? Outside of school, possibly?"

In my mind, I was rolling my eyes at him. Did he really expect me to care about where they were? He knew the trouble both of them put me through and how I did everything in my power to avoid them as much as possible, and he had the audacity to ask me if I've seen them? That was a plainly obvious answer.

"No." I replied, irritated.

The principle frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"They haven't shown up for school in a few weeks." He explained.

"I know. Did you not call their parents?"

He sighed. "We have done that. But according to them, they have been leaving the house in time for school every morning and they do not seem to be concerned at all. Both of their parents strongly believe that they have been going to school, and I cannot convince them otherwise."

I remained silent.

"If you find out anything, please let me know."

I nodded. "Will do, Sir."

I left the office, feeling a strong sense of confusion. Exactly where did Sally and Anderson go to when they left their homes? If their parents believed that they were going to school, despite the evidence of them being marked absent, why are they ignoring the situation?

Sighing, I turned the corner of the hallway and bumped into someone.

"Oi, watch you-"

"John." I managed to blurt out.

"Uh..." John tried to move around me, his heading low but I blocked his path. I frowned at him.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

John shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Of course you do. You have been avoiding me ever since Sally and Anderson went MIA." I exampled.

"I have not, Sherlock." He pressed, his brown eyes glaring up and into mine. I softened my expression.

"Do you know something, John?" I asked, and immediately I saw the naked guilt in his eyes.

He looked away and tried to move, but as quick as I was, I blocked him again.

"John." I muttered.

He shifted his gaze and finally sighed in defeat.

"All right." He admitted. "I was expecting to last longer than this."

"What do you know?" I inquired.

John ran his hands over his face, looking around for any wandering people who might eavesdrop on our conversation. Once he realized no one was going to be coming by, he pulled me out the school doors and outside.

"Listen, Sherlock, there is someone after you." He began.

"Who?"

"I don't know. I don't know what he wants, but I know he's after you. I overhead Anderson having a conversation with a someone a few weeks ago in the men's room, and he didn't know I was listening." John said.

"And you didn't bother to tell me that someone was after me?" I asked, baffled.

"Yes, I had a purpose!" John excused.

"Enlighten me, John." I invited, sounding more harsh than I meant it to be.

His eyebrows curved upwards slightly, as if something worried him.

"The stranger was talking to Anderson about something, and I wished I had peered around the corner to see who it was, but I didn't want to get caught. Um, anyway, Anderson and this stranger were talking about you and how arrogant, brilliant and puzzling you are to them, but they were agreeing that you definitely were something special. The stranger started...started talking about how he wanted you, like he needed you for something, I am not sure." John tried to recall.

"Continue." I demanded.

"He said I was your weak spot." John swallowed. "That if he could manipulate me someway, it would guarantee that he'd get you."

"I don't understand." I interrupted.

"What?" John questioned.

"Why have you been avoiding me, then?" I asked.

John didn't answer for a moment. He looked away, pursing his lips as if he were contemplating whether to lie or tell me the truth. How noble he was to tell the truth.

"I was trying to protect you." John confessed. "I thought that if they found out that I was no longer acquaintances with you, they'd lay off."

It was odd how John would reluctantly and voluntarily do that just for my safety. It was completely unnecessary, but it still confused me to why he would do that. Compassion, I could never really understand that emotion, or so they say.

"Come on." I said, walking towards the road.

"Where are we going?" John asked, trailing behind.

"To find Anderson."


	9. We Have A Name

Chapter 9

Sherlock's POV

"But I don't understand!" I shouted in frustration.

John and I were walking towards Sally's house. I remembered her address from the confidential school files that were locked away in the office. Despite it being locked away, I managed to sneak a peek in Sally's file while the principle was talking to the secretary.

"Not understand what?" John queried, taking longer strides to keep up with my quickened pace.

I spun around in swift, almost like a pirouette, staring at him for a second before walking straight ahead.

"Why you would go through all that trouble to protect me?" I muttered, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of my eye.

"Because something could have happened to you!" John explained incredulously, as if his acts were a common modern human instinct.

"I would have been fine." I retorted, turning right onto the empty straight.

"Sherlock, they would have manipulated me to get to you. I already explained this." John said, frowning.

"I would have known, John." I replied, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

"No, you wouldn't have." John muttered under his breath but I chose to ignore him.

It was silent and all that could be heard were our foot steps sloshing through the tiny puddles that had been left on the street from the light rain we had this morning.

"There." I pointed out a small, two-story house that was placed in between twin houses. It was rather small but it stood out, mostly because of it's faded dark green exterior.

We made it to the front door and knocked. Sally's parents weren't home, both their cars were long gone and seeing as Sally didn't have her license, she couldn't have driven away. She could either be here or not, but I am fairly certain she is home as the hallway lights flickered on. John and I exchanged glanced at each other.

The door swung open and Sally was staring at the ground, looking frustrated and tired. Her usual curly hair was messy and out of place. She had dark circles under her eyes and appeared to be extremely irritated.

"Look, Jim, stop coming ov-" She looked up and immediately her eyes widened. "What are you doing here, freak?"

"We came to check up on you." I said, semi-sarcastically.

"I'm fine." She replied indignantly and proceeded to shut the door. I wedged my shoe between the door and the threshold and she sighed irritably. "What do you want?"

"I want to know what's going on." I began.

She looked away with smirk on her face. "What are you going on about?"

"You haven't shown up to school in a while. You look exhausted, dishevelled and annoyed. I am suspecting that something is going on and that you are being harassed as I am not Jim, and by the tone of your voice when you told 'Jim' to 'stop coming over', tells me that this Jim, is the main reason why you haven't shown up. Not only that, but you have your parents in the shadows." I rambled, watching her expression go from irritated, to awe and fear.

"Look, there's nothing going on. Now, if you could please leave!" She shrieked.

"Gladly." I said and walked back onto the street.

Sally shut the curtains and turned off the lights, going back to her original miserable state.

"What was the point in that?" John asked me.

"We have a name, now, don't we?" I provided.

"A name-"

"Jim." I cut him off.

"Okay, then. What's next?" John questioned and I half-grinned at his enthusiasm and willingness to continue.

"We wait for him to message me again." I said, reaching into my pocket and tossing him my phone without warning. John caught it mid-air. "And I will dig through the school's files for that name. There couldn't be too many Jims in the school."

"What makes you think he goes to our school?" John asked again, fiddling with my cell phone.

"With his lack of decent vocabulary, the fact that he was spying on us on school grounds and how he knows what is happening in the school and my personal life makes me believe that he does, in fact, go to our school." I explained.

"Oh." Was his brilliant reply.

"Let's get a move on, then. School's locked at six in the evening. It's five now."

Without question, we ran the rest of the way.


End file.
